


Theatre

by junes_discotheque



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Ballet, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of past abuse, SO MUCH FLUFF, idk someone on the suits tumblr tag mentioned wanting it and this crawled inside my brain, this got away from me a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junes_discotheque/pseuds/junes_discotheque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis surprises her, but not as much as she surprises herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theatre

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers for anything really.

“I called in a favor,” he says, leading her into the dimly-lit auditorium. There's no production tonight, and it's entirely empty, and there is no one to stop him from climbing onto the stage and offering her his hand.

Rachel pauses for only a second before taking it.

He's less than graceful helping her onto the stage, and she winds up stumbling into him and nearly sending them both crashing back into the seats. She catches him just in time and pulls him back, and when he falls into her arms—well. 

It should be awkward.

The fact that it isn't awkward isn't as shocking as it probably should be.

In her heels, Rachel is taller than him. It doesn't feel strange, either. 

Louis's hand is strong in hers. He moves her around the stage confidently, his other hand planted firmly on her waist, and she can't help wishing it would move just a bit—but despite his reputation, Louis is a gentleman, and he won't. Not here. Not until later, when she is perched on the edge of her bed and Louis is on his knees with his head between her thighs.

He's talented on that stage, as well. The thought makes her smile a little, and she smiles a little wider when she thinks of how the other paralegals would react to that particular bit of information.

Louis dips her. 

Rachel wraps her arms around his neck and laughs.

His answering smile isn't that large mocking grin he wears at work. It's smaller, close-lipped, and slightly devious. His eyes don't shine; they darken. Rachel's breath catches in her throat.

She wonders if it would be terribly blasphemous to christen the stage.

~ * ~

As always, he walks her to the front door of her building. He shuffles a bit, before kissing her on the cheek and attempting to make his escape—like every time, he expects her to reject him. She knows enough of bad romantic histories and the scars they leave to understand and never question it. One of these days he'll figure out she's made up her mind for good. She can be patient.

Can be, anyway. Most of the time, she doesn't really want to be patient. Rachel grabs him before he can flee and nearly drags him against the door, pulling him down and pinning herself between him and the the building. He kisses her hard, like he's trying to prove his worth. 

They stumble inside and up the stairs and into her studio. Something is knocked over. She doesn't care. In the morning, Louis will find whatever it was that broke and clean up the wreckage and by lunch she'll find a replacement on her desk. To Louis, it's an apology. To Rachel, it's a reminder of just how amazing he is.

And yes, amazing.

It's still not weird. She wonders when that part will sink in. She kind of hopes it'll be soon, so she can get the freakout over and done with, but... well, she's pretty okay with never thinking that being with Louis Litt is weird.

There is one thing, though. He never seems to think it's okay to jerk off while he pleasures her. Even when Rachel says she likes it, knowing how much he enjoys tasting her, he won't. If Rachel didn't insist on getting him to fuck her afterwards, she's pretty sure he would happily to sleep hard. 

There's a difference between dominant women and abusive women, she wants to say. Maybe the reason they work is because she doesn't consider herself very dominant. Or maybe they work because she actually likes Louis. She doubts any of his previous partners did.

~ * ~

Rachel comes back from the copy room at a quarter to eleven.

There's a glass vase on her desk—at least ten times as expensive as the one she previously owned—and it's filled with lilies.

There isn't a note.

When Donna asks who they're from, she grins and answers, “My boyfriend.”

It takes Donna five wrong guesses before Rachel laughs and walks away.

~ * ~

The second she realized it wasn't just lust or self-destruction or the thrill of terrible ideas, Rachel had a ring picked out.

It still took her two and a half years to actually propose.

~ * ~

“Oh, wait, that's right—you don't have a wife.”

“Actually, Harvey,” Louis starts, twisting the band on his finger and glancing toward Rachel. She's leaning against Donna's cubicle and smiling. There's a thin chain around her neck. Her ring is tucked inside her dress. If it were up to her, she'd wear it proudly—but he hasn't wanted her to. Nobody would care if he wore one. Nobody would stop talking if she did. And he hadn't been ready. Not until now. “I do.”

He storms out and kisses Rachel in plain view of everyone.

Nobody says a word.


End file.
